Mile High
by Kayzo
Summary: Dean's afraid of flying. This is common knowledge. But what's not so widely know is who it is that's more afraid than him.


Sam would be quick to tell anyone, in that teasing tone only little brothers have, how absolutely terrified his brother is of flying. After a bit of cajoling, Dean would admit that flying's not his favorite mode of transport, but no, that does not mean he screams like a little girl, thank-you-very-much. But, to the brothers' amusement, Dean's fear, though to rival that of Ron Weasley's fear of spiders, is nothing compared to a certain newly humanized celestial being.

It all started innocuously enough, Dean cursing Bobby all throughout check-in, cursing metal detectors all throughout security, and cursing the Wright brothers throughout it all; Sam, furtively smiling at the amusing spectacle and generally being in a good mood; and Cas, eyes roaming as he takes in flying from the human side (that seems to involve very little flying at all). It continued in a similar fashion all though the wait—Dean, nervousness masked by irritability; Sam, amused, almost beyond belief; and Cas, simply taking in the whole affair—up until boarding. The three had gotten on without a hitch, the fake passports excelling, when The Problem started to make itself known.

"That's it?" Dean looks around Cas's tan shoulder (yes, even newly human with the need to change clothes daily, the trench coat would not leave Cas's frame), not seeing whatever it is that's making Cas pause.

"We couldn't exactly spring for first class, Cas" Dean's shoved by the pushy old hag behind him and passes the sentiment on to Cas, getting him to unfreeze and take his seat in the middle, Sam giving him a concerned look.

"There's nothing to be afraid of" Sam says and Dean almost snorts as he takes his seat, Cas is an ex-angel, flying is kinda in the job description. But then Dean glances to the side and sees what Sam does. Cas is looking straight ahead unerringly, knuckles white and fisted in his lap. Dean has only ever seen Cas this frightened once before, and that involved a hooker.

"Yeah, It's not that bad, _I'm _on it, aren't I?" Dean tries to force something like confidence into his voice. From the look Sam's giving him, it's not working.

"I…" Cas turns to him with wide eyes, "I had not realized how… _restricting_ this would be."

Dean tries to scrounge up some words of comfort, but none are forthcoming when dealing with a mode of transport he himself isn't too sure of. His thoughts are interrupted by the chime of the intercom telling them all to 'Please direct your attention to the screen nearest you for our safety guidelines' in a voice that is too chipper to be any of the actual crew on this red-eye flight. By the time the video clip is done, Cas looks worse than before, pale and drawn as he breath comes in quick gasps.

"Do these malfunction often?"

"No, no," Sam is quick to assure, "they just have to show it. Incase."

"Incase" Cas repeats, sounding even more unsure of the entire venture. Sam and Dean share a look over the bed-head separating them, silently communicating the oddity of this development. The plane slowly starts to taxi away from the loading dock and Cas reacts violently. His hands go from clenched in his lap over his seatbelt to white knuckling both armrests in a second, eyes clenched tight and lips pursed.

"Woah there Cas, you okay?" Cas opens one eye a crack to glare at Dean, "Oh come on, you used to fly all the time, this can't be much different."

Cas turns his head fully to Dean, giving him a look that tells him he's just said something stupid, "Flying for me is nothing like this," he looks disdainfully at the belt strapping him in and the seat too close in front of him, "It is freeing and joyful, allowing me wherever I wish whenever I wish. It is not a confining metal cage flown by strangers. I am sure of my own skills, not of theirs."

"Well, _now's_ a great time to tell us you're afraid of flying."

Cas bristled, "I wasn't _aware_ until now."

"Now kids," Sam jostles Cas's knee with his own and gets a glare for his efforts. Any scathing comment is cut short as the plane reeves, starting down the runway with increasingly fast speeds. Cas's hands dig into the armrests, nails leaving marks. His feet push against the floor as if he's trying to push himself further into the back of his seat and disappear. Dean can't really believe how amusing this is, Cas, warrior of heaven, who's faced off against things that would even make some hunters run for their mothers, is more frightened of flying than Dean.

When the bottom drops out and the plane begins to lift, instead of the mix of nauseous and debilitating fear he normally gets, Dean can't help a sound of amusement as Cas tries to bury his head into the seat back. He's sure Cas would be glaring at him if he weren't so concerned with getting to his happy place. No wonder Sam got so much amusement out of this.

Sam gives a little chuckle too, also caught up in the irony of an angel that's afraid of flying, but he does it a bit nicer, patting Cas on the arm and getting out reassuring little nothings through his amusement. By the time the plane is at crusing altitude, Cas's breathe is finally approaching normal, still a little too fast and shallow, but a lot better than before. His hands are still on the rests in a death grip, and he's still pushed back as far as he can go in the seat, but hey, he's not having a fit so Dean's counting it as a win.

"Wow dude, I can't believe you're so bad at this." The amusement coloring his voice probably doesn't endear Cas to him at all, judging by the look he's getting.

"Come on Dean, you're worse than this most of the time," Sam counters when it's apparent Cas isn't going to unclench his jaw to speak.

"I was never _this _bad," Dean smirks, "but we can't all be as awesome as me."

"I hate you both."

"Now, now, Cas, keep talking like that and we'll just throw you out."

Cas's left hand goes from a Vulcan grip on the armrest to Dean's jacket sleeve, "Do not _say _that."

Dean, dare he say it, giggles at the irrational behavior, but is validated when Sam joins in. Cas is not amused and his tightening grip reflects that.

"Oh Cassy," Dean taunts, patting Cas's head with his free arm, "would we ever do that to you?" Cas gives him a sidelong glance, and Dean frowns, "Don't answer that."

"Would any of you care for a drink before we pass out blankets and pillows?" a stewardess appears at their side, a kind, if distracted smile on her face.

"Yeah," Sam shifts forward in his chair, "can I get a coke please?"

"I'll have water" Dean says, not wanting to chance a change in his surprisingly calm stomach. The woman passes the brother's their drinks and looks at Cas expectantly.

"Nothing, thank you." Cas bites out and the stewardess, clueing in to his great discomfort gives a reassuring smile before pushing her cart down the aisle. Dean and Sam pop down their trays and Cas looks at them both with irritation, them having unintentionally made a small space even smaller. Dean smiles again to himself, shaking his head in disbelief at Cas's behavior, but drinks with his left hand, allowing the hand clenched in his leather jacket to stay undisturbed.

Just as she said, the stewardess comes around again shortly, handing out pillows and blankets. She hands Sam his and when she goes to give Cas his, Cas turns to her with his wide eyes, making no move to remove either hand from their perch to grab the blanket and pillow being offered. The stewardess takes one long look into those baby blues, leans over Dean and actually proceeds to _tuck Cas in_, making little comforting noises and everything. Not that Dean's really complaining as he's handed his blanket, he'd gotten a really nice view of her breasts out of the whole deal.

Sam nods of quickly after that, the bastard, with the cabin all dark and shades pulled down. Dean's slow to follow, but eventually does as the long drive to get to the airport from two states over on little rest takes its toll and even the uncomfortable straight back of airplane chairs cannot keep him from sleep.

It's with a jolt that Dean wakes. The seatbelt sign is lit and the plane is going through turbulence. Now this would normally be a time to ask for the alcohol, and Dean is getting right on that, but before his finger can touch the call button, he sees Cas. Newly human Cas who doesn't seem to have slept a wink, or even moved all that much. Dean hates flying, but once they get to crusing altitude, and barring any turbulence, he's usually pretty good until they get to the landing part. Cas though, seems to be having a really hard time with all of this and Dean kind of feels bad.

Wracking his brain for anything that would make Cas loosen up a bit and relax enough to sleep, Dean finally lands on something that, in his mind, is a golden opportunity. Glancing around, Dean sees that nearly everyone else is asleep, trying to at least be functional after the horridness that is a red-eye flight. Perfect.

"Hey, Cas" Dean tries to keep his voice low and soothing but Cas still whips around to face him, "I'm gonna help you, okay?" Dean reaches for the hand that's still on his jacket with his left one, nudging it off. With one last squeeze of hesitation, Cas let's his hand be moved, held in Dean's left one. The look in Cas's eyes, trained on him, full of trust that Dean's still not too sure he's earned has Dean leaning in and giving Cas a soft kiss on the lips.

"It's gonna be okay."

Cas nods slowly, not taking his eyes off Dean's and Dean smiles back, that soft smile that always seems to come out around Cas. Dean's now free right arm moves up and over the arm rest, his hand sneaking below the blanket on Cas's lap. Cas's eyes go wide, he looks between his crotch and Dean's face and Dean can't help but smirk.

Dean undoes the button and zipper on Cas's jeans easily enough (and thank God that Cas had versified his wardrobe once he'd gone human, the belt and slacks would not be fun in this situation), letting his hand cup Cas's soft member through his underwear. Cas made a little noise of surprise, one that never fails to send heat to Dean's groin, as though Cas see's what Dean's doing, but the pleasure of it is always something new.

And pleasure it is. Cas is slowly growing in Dean's hand as he lazily strokes, giving Cas's left hand a squeeze in his own, a solid comfort and anchor as Cas allows his body to relax, let out the tautness that has been keeping him on edge for the past three hours of the flight. Cas's breath starts to shudder for reasons entirely different from fear and Dean leans over to bite Cas's ear lobe, eliciting a shiver.

Dean moves down to Cas's neck, biting and sucking a good sized hickey above the collar of Cas's tee shirt. When Dean pulls back, he can see the red mark starting to form, deep enough in color to be visible, even in the poor light. Cas's half lidded eyes are also visible, Dean is quick to see as they shine with want and something else Dean just isn't ready to identity yet.

Dean leans in again, this time to capture those full lips in a kiss just as his hand stops teasing and reaches under the waistband of Cas's boxers, hot skin on hot skin. Dean catches Cas's gasp on his tongue as Cas lets him roam his mouth freely. Cas's other hand loses its grip on the armrest and threads through Dean's hair, pulling just enough at the short locks that Dean bites Cas's lower lip in retaliation, making Cas moan outright.

Dean pulls away with an obscenely loud sound in the quiet plane, resting his forehead against Cas's as they breath each other's breathe, "gotta be quiet " Dean scolds halfheartedly. Cas nods, biting his lip as if to physically remind himself of the need for discretion. Dean can feel himself harden at Cas's quick compliance warring with his apparent difficulty to not vocalize his pleasure.

"Sit back." Dean urges and Cas nods again, slow and half drugged on sensation, he pulls away from the cocoon they'd created for themselves forty thousand feet in the air, letting his right hand drag down from Dean's hair over his lips and the curve of his jaw, and down his chest before retreating back to the far armrest. The hot gaze that followed the hand's movements has Dean shifting, trying to relieve the pressure on his groin.

"That's good," Dean praises, dragging his fingers from base to tip up Cas's engorged self, taking delight in the twitches in Cas's body and the noises that catch in his throat as he chokes back sound, "you're doing awesome." Dean spreads the pre come gathered at the top over the head and Cas lets out a low whine. His hips are pushing up into the pressure but Dean isn't giving him more, intent to keep him on edge until he can't take it anymore.

Dean licks his dry lips, gazing down at Cas splayed out for him as much as he can in the small airplane seat, unconcerned of all the others around then that could wake at any moment, too lost in the feelings Dean is giving him.

Cas's head lolls onto Dean's shoulder, his soft whimpers and moans reaching Dean through warm puffs of air that contrast with the cold, dry air billowing from the small vents above just enough to make Dean shiver. Dean moves the hand he still has clasped in his own over the bulge in his own pants, pressing it down and hissing at the glorious friction it causes. Cas moves his head just enough to reach Dean's neck, nipping lightly as his talented hand quickly finds its way under the cloth. Dean gives a squeeze to Cas as long fingers wrap around him in a sinfully firm grip.

A hitch in breath and a full body shudder are Dean's only warnings before Cas is making delicious little 'ooh's and warming Dean hand. Dean captures his mouth in a languid kiss, feeling the sounds Cas made reverberate in his own mouth as Cas rides out his orgasm. The hand on him gives three firm strokes and then rubs the head and Dean is gone, holding back curses and biting Cas's lip, making it puffy and kiss swollen.

When they finally come down, both are breathing hard, but more relaxed than ever before on this metal death contraption. Dean gives Cas a quick peck on his shiny red lips (damn, if he hadn't just come…) and then after a beat, leans in for another. He grabs the tissues that Sam had forced him to bring (he'd mocked him then, but now it was a saving grace) and cleaned the both up.

"Come on," he gave a kiss to Cas's forehead, "let's get some sleep." Cas nodded and made himself comfortable with Dean's shoulder as his pillow and quickly drifted to sleep, Dean himself not far behind.

* * *

><p>Dean gathers his duffle as the herding off the plane began. Out of chance, he looks behind himself.<p>

"Padre" Dean gives a mock salute to the priest behind him who nods and gives a kind smile back. Poor guy didn't even know, Dean thought to himself in amusement, the most holy event of his lifetime happened in the seat in front of him while he slept; an angel had come. Sam almost asked where the smirk had come from, but then decided against it, knowing his brother all too well. Although he was happy that Cas seemed to have mellowed out considerably while he had slept.

* * *

><p>The return flight was infinitely better. Well, for Dean and Cas it was, the two had found a(n arguably) new favorite pastime for long flights that brought them much higher than a mere forty thousand feet. Sam's the poor guy who has to sit next to them when they do it.<p>

* * *

><p>So does it mean I'm in the mile high club if I <em>wrote<em> about sex on a plane? Come on, that totally counts, right? And yeah, on my flight there was a priest sitting behind me, and an orthodox Jew in front of me. I wanted to feel guilty about writing gay porn inbetween them, but I couldn't bring myself to, haha.

anyway, like it? abhor it? thought it crashed and burned? do tell!


End file.
